


What Daddy Wants

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Barebacking, Bondage, Come Marking, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, M/M, Mentions of Swingers, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panties, Pet Names, Riding Crops, Sex Club, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Quatre has been slowly spiraling out of control under the weight of his responsibilities.  It's a good thing Trowa can see the signs from a mile away, and sets up exactly what his kitten needs to set things right.





	What Daddy Wants

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY TO MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is nothing but pure smut and most of my favorite kinks smushed together into one fic. For my own perverse enjoyment that I'm sharing with you wonderful folks!! Please read the tags before proceeding further!!!!!!!!!

He kept staring at the last block of his schedule, willing the day to pass by faster. He’d had to over-rule his secretary one day when he’d heard her on the phone politely, but forcefully explaining that she couldn’t book them with Quatre for the last half of his day. Quatre had come out of his office to see what the fuss was about, and she’d shaken her head at him that she had it under control. He’d asked quietly who it was, she’d written down a name on a post-it note and slid it across the desk to him. Quatre let out a little sigh and told her it was alright, to book it into his calendar. When she’d hung up the phone, the willowy blonde had carefully explained who Trowa was, and that his schedule requests were perfectly fine to put in. Trowa was his boyfriend, and was to be treated as such. It wasn’t her fault; she was new after all, and hadn’t handled a request from Trowa yet.

 

Now, here it was a month after that phone call, and he was looking at the schedule block. At 3pm, he’d leave the office and wouldn’t be back until Monday. Trowa had planned things out already. The text message he’d sent that morning had told him to prepare himself. Daddy was taking his kitten out, and wanted him pristine.

 

They’d learned and discovered things together as they’d grown into their relationship. Of course, they’d known things about themselves before, but now that they were a couple, they had to figure out how to blend things together into a cohesive unit. They’d both agreed that they enjoyed different types of power play, and Quatre loved to have Trowa dominate him every now and then. He was so used to being in control and tightly buttoned up, in a polished, public manner, that he needed to let loose. Trowa got that, and enjoyed taking away Quatre’s control, forcing the ever-powerful blonde to obey someone else’s will, and have his decision-making power taken away. 

 

With their busy lives, they didn’t indulge often. But, tonight was a treat that Trowa had planned out a month in advance. He’d seen Quatre unraveling at the seams. The way his shoulders were always tight with tension, and he’d get slightly snappy at people when major mistakes happened at WEI. The way he couldn’t even relax into a cuddle session on the couch while they tried to watch a movie on the weekend. Trowa had seen it coming, and had prepared for it. He booked them a table at a high-end venue that had membership dues, which paid for extreme privacy. It catered to the needs of high profile people who wanted to be out of the limelight, while not forced to remain at home for a night.

 

The clock ticked over, and Quatre snapped his briefcase shut, pulling it off the desk and heading out of the office, his suit jacket folded neatly over his arm. He wished his secretary a good weekend, knowing she’d finish up and be heading out of the office soon herself. He dropped his things into the passenger seat of his BMW and started it up, enjoying the purr of the engine. Leaning back into his seat, he let the power of the car wash over him, the vibrations rocking his entire body. He put on a pair of sunglasses and shifted the car into drive and headed home.

 

Dinner wasn’t until 6, but Trowa had given him time to prepare, because when they played this particular game, Trowa had rules. Trowa wanted him clean and prepared, and dressed in a certain manner. Quatre mentally dug through the small section in his closet reserved for these outings, and couldn’t decide. He’d have to look through what he had first. The drive was easy, and he missed most of the traffic as he headed out of town to the modest home they had together. They’d gone for location, without many neighbors. It was a nice two story home, with enough space and then some. They each had an office, and they’d converted the basement into an elaborate gym for themselves. They had guest rooms for company and really, it was everything one could want in a house. Quatre’s one demand had been the large closet, because he had more than enough wardrobe for three people, given everything he did. He pulled into the driveway and parked the car in the garage, climbing out and rolling his shoulders. He already felt better.

 

Inside, he headed upstairs to the master bedroom, dumping his suit jacket into the dry clean hamper. He headed into the bathroom and turned on the water, filling the tub and adding one of the fizzy bath bombs Trowa had insisted he buy, because they made Quatre’s skin soft after he’d used one. He watched it fizzle and spin, slowly start to build bubbles in the water before he slipped out and back into the bedroom. Humming to himself, he shed the rest of his suit and putting into the proper hampers, and grabbing a black silk robe from his closet. He walked naked back into the bathroom and shut off the water before he let himself slip under it, moaning aloud as the heat sank into his skin and into his muscles, helping relax him almost instantly. 

 

Quatre relished in the moment. He sank down until his chin met bubbles and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away, pushing aside all thoughts of work, charities, and politics from his mind. He’d let it all fall away just for the weekend, and he’d pick the mantle back up on Monday, when reality reared its ugly head. As the water began to turn lukewarm, he scrubbed himself clean until his skin was tinged pink with the effort. He toweled himself off and slipped on the robe, tying the sash of it tightly before he strolled into the bedroom, and right for the giant walk-in closet.

 

Humming to himself, he began to rifle through his clothes, trying to decide what Trowa would like to see him in best. Something classy, but something that still allowed Trowa to show him off as the prize he was. He found a pair of fitted black dress pants that would cling to his hips and ass in all the right ways, and a pair of comfortable black loafers. He tossed them onto the bed and set about trying to find a shirt. Something that would please Trowa. He tapped a forefinger against his chin as he thought. He’d worn all of those shirts before, he wanted to excite his lover. Tease him in a new way that might earn him a punishment or a reward, depending on Trowa’s mood. Then his eyes lit up, and he allowed himself a devilish smirk. He’d ordered something a while back that he’d seen online, on a whim. He hadn’t asked Trowa, but he knew the brunette would like it. It had come in and Quatre had simply tucked it away, too busy to worry about hanging it up or showing it off. He dug around in a drawer until he found the package and tore it open with a grin, shaking it out to help loosen the wrinkles. It would be perfect.

 

Out at the bed, he sat on the edge to start getting dressed when he noticed something by his pillow he hadn’t before. It wasn’t much, but he smirked regardless. Trowa was in a teasing mood too it seemed, judging by what he’d left out for him. A simple silicone plug in a soft pink, and a pair of dark green lacy boyshorts. Quatre had to chuckle as he looked over at the shirt he picked out. It was a perfect match for the boyshorts. He turned to glance at the clock and knew he needed to get a move on.

 

Bouncing onto the bed, he flopped onto his back and grabbed the plug and the lube. He worked patiently, gently fingering himself open until he could easily take the plug. After he lubed it up, he carefully worked it inside his body until the flared base was nestled right between his pert cheeks. He took his time to recover, laying on the bed and panting, arms splayed across the bed in a mock imitation of a starfish. Slowly his breath came back to himself, his panting giving way to steady breaths, even as his cock lay hard and throbbing against his hip, the tip glistening with pre-come. When he had his body under control, and didn’t think that he’d come with a mere thought, he sat up and started to get himself dressed so he wouldn’t be late for his dinner date.

 

-

 

The driver pressed the intercom button to let him know that they were approaching their destination. Trowa had driven himself and had left specific instructions for him to be driven over, so they could take Trowa’s car home. The driver pulled into the awning covered loop and stopped in the middle, right in front of the doors. A valet was there to open the back door for him, and he climbed out with little fanfare. There were no paparazzi to be found, the club’s strict privacy affording its affluent members privacy. All members and staff signed strict non-disclosure agreements and weren’t allowed to speak of what occured behind the walls of the establishment. It was a safe haven for those who couldn’t have one anywhere else.

 

Inside, the decor screamed old luxe, with a modern twist. Rich reds and golds with discreet hints of black covered the walls, while dark wood made up the furniture. Quatre loved it here. He stopped by the coat check and checked his coat in, pocketing the little stub she gave him.

 

“Good evening sir. Do you have a reservation?” The hostess asked, her smile almost too perfectly white.

“Yes, I’m meeting my husband. The reservation should be under ‘Barton’,” Quatre returned, keeping his own smile neutral while she clicked away on her computer.

 

It only took a moment, but she found it and smiled warmly at him. “Welcome back sir. We’re happy to see you haven’t forgotten about us,” she said, grabbing a menu and gesturing for Quatre to follow her.

 

He followed her into the bar room. If people who didn’t have a membership made it inside, and happened to glimpse the doors opening, all they would see was the bar. Just as ornate and rich as the lobby, the bar screamed old world. A long mirror with a polished wooden bar ran the length of the room with every type of alcohol imaginable. There were small tables with large comfortable chairs spread throughout the room, giving off the idea that it was a highly desirable location. There were very few patrons in the bar, and Quatre followed the hostess across the bar to another set of doors. They opened into a large dining area, complete with dance floor in the center. Most of the tables were full with various couples, ranging from straight to hetero, old to young, and almost every combination in between.

 

They wove through the tables, and Quatre could hear the gasps as he walked past. The din of conversation rose in his wake, people talking excitedly as their eyes tracked his movements. He could see Trowa at a table across the room, near the front of the dance floor. They walked along the edge of it, until she had set the menu on the table for him, and gave a little bow at the neck before she slipped away. People were still talking as Quatre took his seat, Trowa’s arched eyebrow the silent question. Quatre had his back to the dancefloor, and Trowa hadn’t seen anything, since they’d walked towards him, and Quatre hadn’t turned around.

 

“Hello Daddy,” Quatre breathed out quietly, his cheeks turning pink as he let the title slip out, doing his best to slip into the proper mindset.

 

“Hello kitten. You were almost late,” Trowa purred out, fingers curling around a tumbler of whiskey.

 

“I’m sorry. I ran a little behind getting ready. I couldn’t pick out a shirt,” Quatre admitted, subtly shifting in his seat as the plug pressed right into his prostate, hoping his voice didn’t sound too breathy.

 

Trowa laughed, a rich throaty sound that curled around Quatre and made him shiver in the best ways. “I don’t recognize that shirt, so I can tell you had some issues. Are you hungry kitten?”

 

“Yes Daddy. I haven’t eaten since lunch,” Quatre replied, his stomach letting out a little noise only loud enough for himself to hear. He knew he’d be admonished for it, but he’d been so busy, and hadn’t wanted to spoil dinner.

 

“You know you need to eat frequently, so you don’t run into problems. I’ll let it slide this time, since I haven’t reminded you about it in a while.”

 

A waiter chose that moment to come over and asked for Quatre’s drink order. Before the blonde could even worry about not looking at the menu, Trowa spoke up.

 

“He’ll have the house white wine. And, we’ll put in our dinner order, if you don’t mind.”

 

Quatre let out a relieved sigh and sank back into his seat, letting Trowa’s voice wash over him, helping his mind slip into that space where he was safe and cared for. Where everything was taken care of for him, and he didn’t have to worry or even think. Trowa would - No, Daddy would take care of him.

 

Trowa ordered them both a salad to start, and got Quatre the chicken special. He ordered himself a rare steak, eyes glinting with mischief at his little lover, who only managed to blush even more. After the waiter left, they talked of non-sense things, Trowa talking about work and keeping Quatre from even mentioning in. Instead, he asked about Quatre’s lunch date on Monday with Duo, about what they could do to remind him to eat on a more consistent basis. When the salad arrived, they ate, Quatre forcing himself to eat slowly so he didn’t overwhelm his stomach, much to Trowa’s delight.

 

“Such a good kitten,” Trowa praised, watching Quatre’s face light up at the praise. He loved that look on Quatre. That unbridled happiness mixed with the knowledge that he was in safe hands.

 

The main course arrived and they ate, Trowa moving on to a second glass of whiskey, and switching Quatre to water to keep himself hydrated. They kept talking, engaging in idle chatter when Trowa turned his head towards the couple that was approaching them.

 

“Good evening. I hate to interrupt your dinner, but my husband Heath was wondering if he could have a dance with your little minx here,” the woman said with a gesture at Quatre.

 

They were older, probably in their early forties, but still attractive and refined. Well-dressed, and Trowa knew the woman from somewhere. She’d worked with Quatre at some point, but he couldn’t place her. But, they’d been vetted in order to be here, and Trowa didn’t see any problem with it.

 

“By all means, let them,” he purred, nodding at Quatre.

 

Quatre stood up and the other man moved closer, offering Quatre his arm. Quatre put a hand onto his arm and they walked to the dance floor. Trowa sucked in a breath, feeling his entire body heat up. Now he knew what had caused the chatter as Quatre had walked in. The deep green of the shirt he’d worn had looked amazing against his skin. Trowa had thought it a regular collared shirt. But, oh how wrong he’d been. Quatre’s back was towards him, and all he saw was rich, creamy skin. The shirt buttoned in the back of the neck with two silver buttons, and fell down the sides of his back until it hit the waist of his pants and connected again. All he could see was the strong line of Quatre’s shoulder blades. The dip in his spine as it curved before his ass. The ridges of his spine. The dark scar down near his pants from being run through by Dorothy. In strategic places, there were silver chains running from side to side, draped across his back.

 

The way the light hit the chains made shadows dance across Quatre’s back, and sharply reminded Trowa of how his lover’s back looked after he’d taken a riding crop to it, with those tender red lines. He took a sip of his whiskey to make sure that he wasn’t actively drooling.

 

“He’s very handsome. And knows how to tease, with a shirt like that. I’m Meredith, by the way.”

 

“Trowa. I had no idea he had that in his closet,” Trowa admitted, watching the two of them dance.

 

Quatre threw his head back with a laugh that they couldn’t hear. Heath had one hand wrapped around one of Quatre’s, and his other hand skirting the waistband of the shirt and Quatre’s pants. And Quatre… His almost too perfect sex kitten knew what he was doing. Heath probably wasn’t aware of it, but Quatre kept manipulating the way they danced, making sure that all Trowa could see was his back draped in silver and framed by green. He was driving Trowa’s possessive instincts into overdrive.

 

“This may be too forward of me to ask, but would you gentlemen be interested in sharing for a night?” Meredith inquired, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

 

Trowa offered her a wary smile and a polite shake of his head. “We don’t really come here for that, unfortunately. If we did, we’d have to discuss it beforehand,” Trowa admitted, casting a glance out at the dance floor, watching Quatre dance, eyes only for the blonde.

 

“I understand. That was how we started out as well. I don’t judge you gentlemen for that at all. It never hurts to ask, because we’re not mind readers. However, if you ever change your minds, please keep us in mind.”

 

Before Trowa could give his assent, the song had ended and their men were walking back towards them, Heath the perfect gentleman, Quatre’s hand resting on his arm as he was escorted back to the table. His cheeks were flushed, but he was thrumming with energy. “Did you have fun kitten?” He asked with a knowing smile.

 

“He’s a wonderful dance partner. He kept me on my toes,” Heath responded, helping Quatre take his seat again before he turned back to his wife, taking her hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “Thank you for allowing him to dance with me. It was invigorating,” Heath admitted with a shy smile at Trowa.

 

Trowa nodded at him, tipping his head in reply.

 

“Thank you both for your time. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening,” Meredith purred, the pair of them gliding away as easily as they’d arrived.

 

They didn’t linger much longer after that. Trowa’s possessive feelings were making him act almost wolfish in nature; making him want to take Quatre home, and now. They stopped at the coat check and Trowa helped Quatre into his jacket, buttoning it up for the blonde before he saw to his own jacket. While he settled the bill from dinner, the car was brought up and they headed out, Quatre practically purring in excitement, knowing what was going to happen once they got home. Trowa watched Quatre sit in the car, a knowing smirk on his lips as he settle gingerly into the seat to avoid jostling the plug nestled inside of him. They drove in silence, the radio quiet background noise. Trowa hadn’t brought up something to talk about, and Quatre was slipping closer into his headspace.

 

When they got home, Quatre gave Trowa a brief show, slipping his jacket off one arm at a time, looking over his shoulder at his lover, batting his eyes at him. Trowa wasn’t falling for the doe-like act though, and he tugged the jacket off to let it flutter to the floor. One hand came up and grabbed Quatre at the back of the neck, like a mother animal would do with her young when moving them.

 

“You’ve teased me enough tonight kitten. No more,” Trowa growled as he steered them through the house to the bedroom.

 

He allowed Quatre to kick off his shoes and socks before manhandling the blonde to the bed on his stomach. Trowa went with him, one knee on the bed, the other digging into one of Quatre’s asscheeks. He held the blonde down with his hand at his neck, squeezing mildly.

 

“Gonna show you who’s in charge,” he groaned out, fumbling one-handed at his pants.

 

Once they were open, he shoved them down as best he could to free his cock. He was hard, practically leaking the moment he was free to the air. He took himself in hand, not even caring that it was going to be rough because his hand was dry. This was going to be quick. That pale expanse of flesh before him, while Quatre was still fully dressed… Quatre’s back had always been one of his weaknesses. Some men preferred asses or legs or eyes. Trowa was a savant for the salacious curves of a well-muscled back. Quatre was mewling out his title, begging for his daddy to do something. Anything.

 

His strokes were quick, his hand curled loosely around his shaft. He jerked himself from halfway up the shaft to the tip, rubbing his thumb across the glans, squeezing around the frenulum as he jerked himself. He came with a grunt only a few minutes after he started, stroking each spurt of come from his cock, letting the mess splash across the dips and planes of Quatre’s back.

 

“Daddy,”” Quatre sobbed, doing his best to try and writhe under the feel of each splatter as it it him.

 

It burned in the most satisfying of ways. Each drop touched his skin and felt like molten lava branding him. Showing that Trowa owned his body. Trowa had him pinned in such a way that he couldn’t even rock his hips into the bed to try and gain some friction on his aching cock. He’d gone from half mast to achingly hard in the span of three seconds.

 

“Stay still,” Trowa growled out, giving Quatre’s neck a brief squeeze before he shimmied off the bed and kicked his pants off. He strode across the room to the closet, unbuttoning and shedding his shirt as he went. He’d be angry at himself in the morning for the mess he’d have to clean up, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

He rummaged around in one of the small dressers in the closet, rifling around for things. He stacked things into his arms, humming to himself as he worked. Of course he was taking his time, knowing the wait would drive Quatre insane. It would make him impatient, and an impatient Quatre was much more likely to act out. Which gave Trowa a reason to punish him even more. It was all part of the game after all. The game to drive Quatre to the brink and shatter him so that Trowa could piece him back together like a mosaic, only slightly stronger than last time. That was what this was all about.

 

Stalking back into the room, he was both pleased and disappointed. Quatre was still on the bed, but he was undulating his hips, humping against the bed. His lower lip was caught in his teeth in a vain attempt to keep himself quiet. He allowed himself to watch for a moment. Pale skin framed by green and black on a soft blanket. Trowa had put it down before he’d left for work. In addition to being buttery soft against the skin, the middle was lined so it would absorb and hold lube and come. When they were finished, they’d pull it off the bed and wash it. No more fighting over who had to sleep in the annoying wet spot. As much fun as it had been to make the wet spot, no one actually liked having to sleep in their own jizz.

 

“I thought I told you to stay still,” Trowa said, fixing the blonde with his best glare.

 

Quatre startled, looking guiltily over his shoulder at Trowa. He released his lip and bowed his head in submission. “I’m sorry daddy. You were just gone so long, and I’m so hard. It hurts,” he whimpered.

 

“You know the rules Quatre. Patience is rewarded, and disobedience is punished. You were so well behaved at dinner. But, the surprise with your clothes and now this? No, you’re going to take your punishment, and I’m going to enjoy every little sound that I can urge from those pretty pink lips of yours. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be willing to offer me anything I could ever want. You’d be willing to climb into the heavens and de-throne God himself i I merely offered up the suggestion. I will own you so completely, that you won’t be able to tell where you end and I begin,” he purred, voice thick with intentional promise. 

 

He didn’t wait for a response. He stalked closer and dropped his various items at the foot of the bed. Then he climbed onto it, tapping the side of Quatre’s hip. Quatre shuffled his knees under him as Trowa worked on the fly of his pants. He opened them and tugged them down until they got caught on his knees. Without being prompted, Quatre shifted his weight to one knee so Trowa could work it off that side, then repeated the action on the other side, leaving him in nothing but the lace boy shorts and that backless shirt. The pants were tossed to the ground, and Trowa’s hands were gently caressing his ass, squeezing his cheeks. Fingers dipping into the cleft of his ass to prod at his hole, nudging the plug deeper into him. Teasing him with shallow thrusts of the plug, designed to ratchet Quatre’s desire higher.

 

“Daddy, please,” he whined, chest heaving as he tried to stamp down on his desire. He knew the rules, and coming without permission wasn’t allowed.

 

His hands came off of Quatre at the whine. He wasn’t always cruel. And, technically the punishment hadn’t started yet. So it wasn’t fair of him to torment Quatre unjustly just yet. “Stay on your knees baby,” he encouraged. Then he was away from the blonde, grabbing a pair of lined leather cuffs from the foot of the bed, and the chain that went with them. 

 

Quatre cooperated with Trowa, offering up his wrists for daddy to unfasten the cuffs of his shirt and fold the material up before he fastened the leather around his wrists. A length of short links separated the cuffs, giving Quatre a little movement between his hands. Both cuffs were joined by a separate chain which was wound around the bar of the headboard. It’s a long enough length that Quatre and put his forearms on the bed, but he won’t be able to move his arms down further, to do something silly like touch his own cock without permission.

 

“Now then kitten. For your punishment, let’s figure this out. Fifteen for the surprise with your clothing, and the way you had everyone in the restaurant practically salivating for a mere taste of you. And, another fifteen for disobeying a direct order I gave you while I was getting everything together. I think that’s fair, don’t you?” 

 

He might have been asking Quatre for his opinion, but they both knew that daddy was just telling him what was going to happen. The only way out of this was his safeword, which would end everything, full stop.

 

“Yes daddy. It’s fair,” Quatre said, his voice sounding quiet and much younger than it actually was. He sounded almost like he was apologetic for what he’d done, and that he was accepting his punishment.

 

“Good boy,” Trowa purred out, reaching a hand out to ruffle Quatre’s soft blonde locks.

 

Humming an upbeat little tune, he grabbed something off the bed, out of sight from Quatre. He hefted it in his hand and wrapped the handle over his wrist. He held it, gave it a couple test strikes against the palm of his opposite hand. Felt the slight sting from part of it. The satisfying thwack of the tip, more noise than pain. But, Trowa was going to make this a real punishment. He was going to vary it, show Quatre that he wasn’t going to get away with it.

 

“Make sure you count them out loud. And, I shouldn’t have to say it, but I will. You are not allowed to come until I say so. Normally, I’d put a cock ring on you to ensure that. But, I think a lesson in self restraint is in order.”

 

He didn’t give Quatre time to confirm his orders. No, he moved off the bed, standing right to the side of it as he brought the riding crop down onto Quatre’s ass, the tip of it cracking right across his right cheek.

 

Quatre let out a wail, more out of shock than pain. He managed to squawk out the number one, his fingers curling into fists, his entire body giving a small convulsion as he adjusted to the feel of it. Trowa brought the riding crop down in rapid fire strikes, only pausing long enough for Quatre to count off. The first fifteen were all done with just the tip. Warming Quatre’s ass up to it. Building it up for what’s going to come next.

 

But, he stopped after the first fifteen. He paused, taking a step back to check in. Quatre’s face is blotchy and his eyes are red. There are tear tracks down his cheeks. He’s not sobbing, but his voice sounds wrecked already. The bolt of lust that shot straight to Trowa’s groin is a surprise. He can’t recall being so instantly turned on just by Quatre crying. “Color?” Trowa asked softly, rubbing his thumb through one of those tear tracks, wiping it away.

 

“Green,” Quatre breathes out after a brief moment. His voice is still wrecked, but he still clearly wants this.

 

“Such a good boy for me. Brace yourself,” Trowa warns out as he gives Quatre’s face one last caress before he backs away. The riding crop isn’t quite built for what he’s going to do, but it will hold up.

 

He swung again, this time with the rod of the crop. The pain is more. Sharper, and stings more. Trowa knows how it hurts because he’d hit himself with it. Had seen the difference, so he’d know how to use it on Quatre as well. Quatre’s scream this time is more in response to the pain, because it does hurt more. But, his little kitten doesn’t falter. He keeps counting as Trowa hits him over and over. The strikes moved up and down over the meat of his ass, from where his ass swelled out at his back, to right where it curved back inward to his thighs. The only thing that kept Quatre from coming was the lack of stimulation on his cock. Being up high on his knees didn’t allow him to rub himself off against the bed.

 

“Good boy. So good, taking your punishment,” Trowa cooed out, letting the crop dangle by the wrist strap.

 

Quatre was a mess of tears and red, the bed under him wet from crying. His entire body was thrumming, knowing it would only take a little touch or even a word from Trowa and he’d be coming from the pain and the humiliation of being spanked like an unruly child. He loved and hated being punished. Love the way daddy took care of him afterwards, and the way his body always seemed to feel during and after it. Trowa didn’t untie him. Kept him chained up even as he set the crop aside, signaling that the punishment was well and truly over.

 

“Let’s get those pretty panties off of you. I want to see how red I made your cheeks look.”

 

He tried to help, but his body was so sensitive and wobbly, he couldn’t do much. Trowa pulled them down off his hips and past his knees. The wet spot on the front of the lace made Trowa grin. Once the panties were off, Quatre’s legs finally gave out and he fell onto the bed in a heap. The sight had Trowa’s cock throbbing again, and his hand fumbling for his phone from his back pocket. From spanking Quatre’s ass with the underwear on, he had made a pattern. Where the lace had been in bigger patches, it hadn’t gotten red, unlike the smaller patches. It was like Quatre was wearing a set of red lace right on his cheeks. Trowa took several pictures of it, making some of them tasteful and some of them downright lewd.

 

He was so hard, it hurt. Technically, Quatre had been suffering for longer, stuffed full with that plug. There had been more he wanted to do, but his libido wasn’t going to allow it. No, he wanted and needed to come. Needed to finish himself off inside Quatre’s pert little ass and have Quatre screaming his name out so that it echoed throughout the house. “Sorry baby. This is going to be over much quicker than I wanted it to be,” Trowa admitted, climbing back onto the bed and grabbing the lube from the bottom of the bed.

 

“Doesn’t have to be,” Quatre breathed out, looking over his shoulder at his lover. “You can be my daddy all weekend,” he admitted, voice breathy and soft. Like he was asking for something he really wanted, but didn’t know how it would be received.

 

“You want to be my kitten for the next two days? Just doing whatever daddy wants, so you can hear how you’re nothing but a good boy for me? Is that what you want kitten?” Trowa asked, his own voice rough with lust at the idea. The mere thought of Quatre at his every whim and mercy for the next two days.

 

“Want you for the weekend daddy. Want you to do everything you planned and more.”

 

The admission broke the last thread of control that Trowa had. He fumbled at the placket of his own pants and finally managed to get them open. He had them pushed down his thighs just enough to free his cock and he dripped lube directly from the bottle onto his shaft, hissing at the coolness of the liquid. His hand was quick, spreading the lube in short thrusts until his entire cock was shiny and wet looking. His dry hand grasped the plug nestled between his kitten’s cheeks and tugged, working it out of his body with careful motions. Two fingers still wet with lube dipped into the blonde’s hole, smearing more slick inside Quatre’s body, rubbing it into his walls to make sure he was still wet and ready. He set the plug nearby, because he had use for it later. Scooting closer, he rubbed the tip of his cock against Quatre’s puckered hole, teasing them both.

 

“Tell me your rules for being on daddy’s cock,” Trowa demands, pressing the tip barely inside of the blonde before he pulled it back. Something dark and perverse in him relished in the way Quatre whined, like he’d just been deprived of oxygen instead of his daddy’s thick cock impaling him.

 

Quatre sucked in gulps of air, trying to focus. His brain was so set on getting fucked, on being pushed into the mattress and used until they were both sated. The tease of Trowa’s cock had him whining and writhing, trying to thrust his hips backwards to impale himself. Trowa’s voice was coming through to him like a fog, like his head was wrapped in gauze and he couldn’t quite hear it all. Trowa repeated it a second time, more oomph behind his words.

 

“I can… I can come on daddy’s cock. Any time as, many times as I want,” Quatre managed to gasp out, eyes clenched tight as he yelled the words out, desperation making him loud.

 

It’s going to be quick, rough and dirty and they both know it. They’re both too keyed up from teasing and punishment and the love that they share. Trowa nudged the tip of his cock against Quatre’s hole and pressed the head inside. Once the head was in, he watched the way his entrance fluttered around the thickest part of his cock. Trying to suck him in deeper. He leered as Quatre braced himself with fingers curled around the bars of the headboard. “Hang on tight kitten,” he growled out.

 

Trowa took hold of the blonde’s hips and slammed himself in as deep as he could go in that first thrust. Quatre screamed as he was plundered in a single thrust, filled to the brim by the cock he loved so much. Trowa set a brutal pace, his only goal being blessed release inside his little lover.

 

“Daddy!” Quatre wailed as he pressed his chest to the bed and arched his back a little more just so daddy could fuck him deeper, right over that perfect spot.

 

It was merciless and fast. The zipper and wool of Trowa’s pants dug into his flesh, scraping against his already abraded skin. Both of them panting as Trowa fucked in and out of Quatre’s willing body, seeking his release. Quatre kept up a litany of wordless screams and Trowa’s title as he was fucked. The head of Trowa’s cock kept grazing his prostate and one moment he was reveling in the thrill of being pounded like daddy’s slut should be, and the next he was screaming until his voice cracked and broke as he came untouched, spurts of come streaking the blanket under him. His body went limp, Trowa’s hands on his hips the only thing keeping his lower body upright.

 

The rhythmic clenching of Quatre’s body on his cock was Trowa’s undoing. He rutted himself into the blonde as deep as he could manage, grinding the tip of his cock into Quatre’s battered prostate as his own orgasm overtook him. He grunted in an almost animalistic way as he came deep inside Quatre, coating his insides with his orgasm. He knelt there, still fully dressed with his cock buried in Quatre, catching his breath. His cock slipped from his lover’s body, limp and slick with lube and come. Once he’d slipped out, Quatre lost his fight with gravity and his legs gave out, dumping him unceremoniously in his own puddle of come.

 

“Such a good boy for daddy,” Trowa praised, even as his hands got to work, grabbing the plug and the lube. He slicked the plug up and carefully worked it back inside Quatre, making sure he was plugged up tight, so his come would stay lodged deep inside his little kitten. “Gonna keep you plugged up all weekend when my cock isn’t in you. I want to see how much come your cute little ass can hold.”

 

Quatre let out a little mewl of assent and nodded his head, nuzzling his cheek into the blanket as the euphoric state of bliss kept washing over him like waves crashing on the beach. He was so deep into his space that nothing could touch him, floating as he was. Daddy had taken care of him. Had done everything he’d said he would, and was going to look after him all weekend, because Quatre was a good boy, and deserved to be taken care of.

 

Trowa slid off the bed and worked on the chain that connected the cuffs to the headboard, letting Quatre have most of his motion back. The cuffs would stay on, an easy method of control if he needed them throughout the coming days. Quatre was at his mercy, but they both knew how benevolent the brunette would be. Daddy always took care of his little kitten. Trowa pulled the blanket away after rolling Quatre off of it and wiping at the cooling come on the blonde’s stomach. He disappeared for a few minutes, and Quatre heard the tell-tale noises of the washer starting up before Trowa was back with water and was urging the upper half of his body upright so he could drink. When Trowa was satisfied, he set the water aside and helped the blonde lay out on the bed again, Trowa reclining against the headboard still in his shirt and open pants. He’d strip them both in a few minutes, once he was certain Quatre was doing alright. He was relaxed and content, until Quatre opened his mouth again.

 

“I wonder if you’ll make my stomach swell just a bit daddy,” he teased, that devilish misbehaving smirk etched into innocent features.

 

“Be careful what you ask for kitten. You just might get what you’re asking for,” Trowa warned, already feeling his cock stirring in interest at the prospect again, despite the intensity and recentness of his orgasm.


End file.
